"Oh, Mr Wiseman, _please_ stay," and his quick eye saw that all the
little faces were swollen and tear-stained. Something must be very
wrong.
"The baby," he thought to himself, "poor little woman. Surely nothing
worse has happened to her since I saw Mr Bertram? They could never
have sent the children to tell me--"
He jumped down, stopping an instant to pat his frightened horse. But he
had not the heart to scold the children for startling poor Paddy so.
"What _is_ the matter, my dear children?" he said kindly.
The children knew Mr Wiseman well, and were not afraid of him, still it
was not easy to get the story clearly from them. The doctor saw he must
be patient, and as soon as he heard baby's name he felt that the matter
might be serious, and by careful questioning he at last understood the
whole. In his heart he did not feel very uneasy, for little Dolly's
father had told him in what way she seemed ill, and it was not the kind
of illness that could have come from a fall. But to the children he was
very grave, for he thought it most wrong of them, Leigh especially of
course, not to have told exactly what had happened; and he thought, too,
that the sooner the under-nurse was sent away the better.
"I don't think," he said, "I don't think I need to tell you how wrong
you have been. There is no fear, Leigh, of your ever trying anything of
the kind again without leave. And even you two little ones are old
enough to know you should not have kept the accident a secret. But I
must hurry on to see poor baby as quickly as possible. Come back to the
house now, for it is too cold for you to be standing about, and as soon
as I can I will let you know how your little sister is. All you can do
now is to be as good as possible, and give no trouble while she is ill,
even if your mamma and nurse cannot be with you at all."
With these words he sprang up into his dogcart again and drove off
quickly to the house, the children gazing after him.
Then Mary burst into a sad fit of crying again. "Oh Leigh! Oh Artie!"
she said. "Does you think Baby Dolly's going to die?"
Leigh was very pale, and his eyes were still swollen and red, but he had
made up his mind not to cry any more. He felt he was so much more to
blame than the others that he wanted to try to comfort them.
"I hope God will make her better," he said in a very low voice. "Please
try not to cry, Mary dear. It makes me so very miserable. Let us go
home now and wait quietly in the study till Mr Wiseman comes to tell us
how baby is."
Mary slipped her hand into Leigh's, and choked down her tears.
"I'll try not to cry," she said. "But I can't help thinking about if we
have to be all alone with Emma, and she'll be so c'oss. Do you think,
p'raps, we won't see mamma for a lot of days, Leigh?"
Leigh could only say he did not know, but he squeezed Mary's hand tight.
"I'll not let Emma be cross to you, Mary dear," he said. "I'll try to
be very good to you, for it's all my fault."
Artie took Mary's other hand, and they all three went back to the house.
The study was just as they had left it--there was no sign of Emma,
which they were very glad of. They felt chilly and tired, though they
had walked such a little way, and they were glad all to creep round the
fire again, and sit there waiting--oh so very, very anxiously, till they
heard Mr Wiseman coming. For Leigh had told him they would be in the
study.
It seemed a long time.
"I wonder if he's _never_ coming," said Mary, more than once.
At last there came the sound of footsteps, quick and firm, running
downstairs.
"There he is," said Leigh, and he ran to the door which he opened and
stood there listening. But strange to say the footsteps crossed the
hall towards the front door, instead of turning down the passage to the
study. Leigh could scarcely believe his ears--surely it _could_ not be
the doctor?
Yes it was--he heard his voice speaking to the butler in the hall. And
then--before Leigh had time to run out and call to him, there came the
sound of Mr Wiseman's dogcart driving away as fast as it had come.
Leigh felt faint with disappointment. He came back into the room again,
looking so white that Mary and Artie started up.
"He's gone," said Leigh, "gone without coming in to tell us."
"Can it be that Dolly's so ill he doesn't like to tell us?" said Artie.
"P'raps he's gone to get another doctor," said Mary. "Peoples has two
doctors when they're very ill, nurse said. Oh Leigh, dear Leigh, I'm
afraid I'm going to cry."
Leigh did not speak. If he had, he would have burst out crying himself,
I'm afraid. But just then--just when they were feeling as if they
_could not_ bear it any more, there came again the sound of some one
hastening downstairs, a lighter tread than Mr Wiseman's this time. And
the footsteps did not cross the hall. They came quick and eager, one
after the other, down the passages to the study. Then the door opened--
and--some one stood there, looking in.
"My poor dears," said a loving voice with a little tremble in it. And
in another second somebody's arms were round them all--it is wonderful
how many children can creep into one pair of arms sometimes!--and they
all seemed to be kissing mamma, for of course it was mamma--and each
other at once. And somehow--Mary could not remember how mamma told it
them--they knew that there were good news. Baby Dolly was not going to
be very ill!
It had nothing to do with the fall--but, till the doctor came, it was
thought the little sister had got scarlet fever or measles, and that was
why the children had been kept out of the nursery all the morning and
not allowed to see the baby, or mamma or nurse who had been with her.
For those illnesses are very easily caught.
But it was nothing so bad. It was only a little feverish attack, which
would soon pass away if she was kept quiet and warm.
"You shall see her this afternoon, just for a minute or two," said
mamma. "I told the doctor I would come down myself to tell you the good
news. And I am going to take you out a walk, so as to leave the nursery
quite quiet."
"Not with Emma?" said Mary. She was not sorry, but she was rather
surprised.
"No, dear, not with Emma. You will not be with Emma any more, for I
cannot trust her." Leigh grew very red at this.
"Mamma," he said, "then you can't trust _me_."
"Yes," she replied. "I do trust you, for I know you have had a lesson
you will never forget. Will you, my boy?"
"No, mamma, never," said Leigh in a very low voice.
The walk was to the Lavender Cottages. Mamma had two reasons for going
there. She wanted to thank Janie Perry for the brave way she had
behaved; and she also wanted to ask Janie's mother about a niece of
hers, who she thought would make a nice nursery-maid instead of Emma.
It was a very happy walk; they all felt as if they had never loved mamma
_quite_ so much before.
And a few days later, when Baby Dolly had got quite well and was able to
go out in her carriage once more, mamma came with them again for a great
treat. And Fuzzy came too.
"Poor old Fuzzy," said Mary, who was hopping along as merry as a
cricket, feeling quite safe with mamma's hand. "Poor old Fuzzy. He
never _meaned_ to run away, did he, mamma? When Baby Dolly's a big girl
we'll tell her she needn't be f'ightened of poor Fuzzy--it's only his
play; isn't it, mamma dear?"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The End.